The Eye of the Beholder
by MLaw
Summary: Napoleon and Illya are, as usual, trying to evade a THRUSH agent. Published on section7mfu Live Journal for PicFic Tuesday Challenge. pre-saga series


I spotted them across the room, and instantly felt a spark of attraction.

The brunette was suave, devilishly handsome and well dressed. Obviously he was a man of expensive tastes.

I watched him as he leaned against the bar, scrutinizing the room with his sparkling hazel eyes, and I wet my lips with my tongue as he caught my gaze, smiling at me.

It was a smile that could stop you in your tracks.

His friend, the blond, sat on a barstool beside him, looking cool and aloof. His clothes were plain, but he looked very sexy all dressed in black with his turtleneck. He too was searching the crowd; his eyes a gorgeous shade of blue that looked like they didn't miss a trick. They seemed cold at first but there was something about the man, and I watched as he let free a small crooked smile when he looked at his friend, and that's when his eyes suddenly seemed to warm up.

Before I knew it the brunette approached me and I realized I needed to stop staring at them and do my job.

"Can I offer you cigars, cigarettes, matches, pens... gentlemen." I held out the tray of notions, directing his attention to it.

Surprisingly, a long stem red rose appeared from behind his back as he stepped in front of me.

"_Bonjour Mademoiselle, je m'appelle Solo, Napoléon Solo_. A beautiful rose for an American beauty."

He handed the stem to me, and took my other hand, leaned forward, kissing it. I was in shock, not only at his debonair behavior, but the fact that he knew I wasn't French.

"And you are?" He smiled again.

I nearly giggled at his name. Who the heck would be called Napoleon...man his parents must have been a bit strange. But, good Lord, it was that smile that made my knees nearly buckle.

"Umm, Marilyn, my name is Marilyn Houlihan."

"Ah, a fine Irish lass." The blond stepped up behind Napoleon. "We need to move, our feathered friend just came into the club...my apologies Miss Houlihan for interrupting, but we must be going."

I could see a look of concern in his eyes. "And your name is...?" I boldly asked him.

"Pardon me," he whispered softly, "Illya... Kuryakin." He spoke a language to his friend that sounded like Russian.

"_"Pozhaluysta, Napoleon my dolzhny idti_please Napoleon we must go."_

There was nothing subtle with this one, as he seemed all about business. Even though I didn't know what he said, I figured it was important...there was sort of and urgency in his voice now.

"Sorry, we do have to leave, perhaps I might see you another time," Napoleon apologized to me.. "When do you get off work? I could meet you and we could go for some coffee and croissants, or maybe something more intimate?"

He slipped a twenty dollar bill onto my tray, picked up a book of matches and smiled at me again. Now I was feeling all hot and bothered and before I knew it, I blurted out the answer. "At one o'clock..." I looked at my watch, and saw that was in about a half hour.

"I'll see you then Marilyn." He winked at me as Illya tugged at his sleeve. I called out to him for his change and he waved at me, as both of them disappeared among the crowds. I figured that was the last I would see of these two, and was happy that Mr. Handsome had given me such a nice tip... and the rose to boot.

.

Illya and Napoleon headed out the side door of the Club Benét, moving quickly up the alleyway, but checking back to see if they were being followed.

"What did you do with the microdot?" Illya asked. "Do not tell me you put it in that rose."

"Please _tovarisch_? You think I would stick it on something that could be easily tossed? I put it under her notions tray. Each girl is responsible for the contents of her own tray, so I know it'll be well taken care of. We can retrieve it when I come back to take her out."

"Leave it to you to turn a drop into a date," the Russian snickered.

"Hey, when ya got it..."

"Yes, I know and you have got it, as you have told me so many times before."

Suddenly there was the sound of glass crunching as if stepped on, and a man wearing a stereotypical black trench coat stepped from the shadows. He was pointing a pistol directly at them; apparently the bird had a friend.

"Okay Monsieur Solo hand eet over," he rasped in a whiskey voice, with heavily accented English

"Hand what over?"

"_Mon Dieu,_ knock off ze games." He stepped towards Illya, pushing the barrel of the pistol against his temple. "Cough it up or I put ze bullet in heee's brain."

"Do not do it Napoleon," Illya droned in a low voice.

"I don't have it," the American answered calmly.

"Click." The weapon was cocked. "I'll shoot him on ze count of three."

The U.N.C.L.E. agent's eyes met, sending a silent message to each other.

"_Un._"

"I'm telling you I don't have it."

"Da, he is telling the truth. We do not have it."

'Shut up Kuryakin... _deux_"

Illya spun into action, grabbing the man's wrist; the two of them grappling for the gun. Napoleon drew his Special from his shoulder holster, darting their assailant.

The Thrushman dropped to the ground with a thud and they dragged his body behind a nearby dumpster; heading back to the side entrance, just as Marilyn opened the door.

"You could have done that a little faster," Illya huffed to his partner.

"You looked like you were doing fine."

"_Trés drole__very funny," Illya said, as he grabbed the door, keeping it from closing.

.

I spotted the two of them and Illya seemed a bit disheveled, and red in the face. He grabbed the door, stepping behind me and that's when it suddenly hit me. "Hey wait a minute, the both of you?" I said." What's going on here? Oh noooo, I'm not into anything kinky if that's what you're thinking!"

"No, no." Napoleon reassured. "Illya forgot something in the club, that's all. So where would you like to go for coffee?" Napoleon grinned at me, disarming my suspicions instantly.

A moment later the blond popped back out the door, nodding quickly to his friend.

"I will meet you at the..._office_, later." Illya gave me a little bow, and just disappeared, off into the darkness.

"Gee, you two are acting all mysterious and such...golly, you aren't criminals or spies or something like that are you?"

"Do I look like one of those?" Napoleon batted his eyes at me, giving me a puppy dog look."

"No I guess not."

"Spies go around saving the world don't they... like carrying microdots containing codes that could trigger a war right?" He quipped.

"Ummm, I suppose?" I smiled back at him, thinking that was a rather imaginative thing to say. "No, you and Illya don't look like spies at all."

"No not at all."

He offered me his arm like a real gentleman, walking me out to the street and down the block to a little bistro that was open late.

As we sat drinking our coffee and eating our croissants, I looked into his eyes and wondered if he wasn't a spy...then what was he?

"What do you do for a living Napoleon?" I leaned on my elbow, looking him flirtatiously, straight in the eyes.

"I'm a traveling salesman. Acme novelties." He pulled out a business card from his breast pocket, handing it to me.

I suddenly felt a little let down, but then thought, "Yeah right. In that expensive suit? And Illya didn't look exactly like a novelty salesman type either." I didn't say anything though, but he must have seen the disappointment in my eyes.

"Would you rather I was a spy then?"

"Hmmm, no insult intended but that sounds more exciting than a salesman...a spy saving the world... that's pretty cool."

"Okay, for tonight then, I'll be your own personal man of mystery...a spy." He practically purred at me.

Napoleon leaned across the table and gave me a kiss that made my toes curl. Salesman, spy...who cares, that man could kiss, and the night wasn't over yet."


End file.
